’ Melusine swung round and stared at him, while Gerald silently cursed. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. ’ A question leapt into Everett’s head and he recalled the letter to the Abbess. She had begun alone.
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